


Team Strategy

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Series: Infinity War Fix It [9]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-07 22:54:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14681157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: Time to get together and make a plan.





	Team Strategy

Steve Rogers was tired. It was a soul weariness, an exhaustion from having lost so much despite fighting, from constantly being expected to fight more, from continuing to lose all his moorings. He could rail that it wasn't fair, that he didn't deserve this kind of fate, but there was no point to that, either. The survivors of Thanos' plan were going to fight, which meant that there would be more casualties, which meant he would lose whoever he had left. Perhaps it was only right that the original Avengers were more or less together again, because they could fight together and die together. Maybe then he could rest, but he doubted it. He suspected that even in the afterlife, there would be battles for him to continue fighting.

His chest hurt, even when he tried to massage it through the layers of shirts. He'd had a few changes of clothing in his storage rack on the jet, and he'd managed to make them last a bit. With the current devastation, he was all but invited to live in Wakanda. He'd turned it down in the past, thinking it was safer for Bucky to live on his own and discover who he was without his constant interference. It had seemed to work out okay when he was on the run in Europe before the Sokovian Accords were created, and it had hurt to leave after every visit. But Bucky was happy and seemed stronger every time he visited, more sure of himself as a man and not a weapon, and his visits had gradually gotten longer and longer. Maybe if this hadn't happened, he would have settled down in a farm near Bucky's, maybe he would have learned how to quell the need to constantly fight for justice.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

"Steve," Natasha murmured, standing in his doorway. She was in the same kind of armor as the Dora Milaje, which had been something of a shock the first time he saw it. She had worn dark colors the entire time he'd known her, lots of black and red like her Black Widow moniker. Then it was black and hunter's green while they were on the run, the better to blend into the shadows.

"Your hair is red again," he blurted, taking in what else was different.

She smiled, that same weariness in her gaze that he felt. "It was time to be myself again."

"You figured out who that is, then?" he asked, a wan twist to his lips that might have been a smile.

"Mostly. How about you?"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Who are you without a shield? If you're not Captain America? Do you remember who Steve is?"

He blinked. "I don't think I ever forgot."

"Yeah, you did. You were caught up in the symbolism of it. Everyone was, really. You're easy to rally around that way."

Steve frowned at her. "I didn't mean to. It's-"

"Not deliberately," she interrupted, shaking her head. Natasha came into his room and sat down beside him; he got a flash of pain, remembering how he would do the same for Wanda whenever she had felt unsure of herself or her abilities. He'd cared so much for his team, and now he was gutted.

"Natasha..."

"You're earnest, Steve. A beacon of righteousness that doesn't ever dim. That's what we're drawn to. You think of it as your Captain America persona, and maybe that's built on it. But it's still _you,_ and sometimes I think you forget that. We came with you because we believe in _you,_ not in the costume."

He watched her take his hands in hers, felt the squeeze of fingers as his gut twisted. Once upon a time, Bucky had said the same thing. _That idiot from Brooklyn? I'm following him._

"Even if it gets you killed?" he rasped.

Her smile was sad. "The way I was raised, we weren't expecting longevity. It wasn't our purpose. We didn't have a place in the world." At his stricken expression, she shook her head. "No, no, don't feel bad. Because I've changed since then. I'm not just a collection of cover identities and a marketable skill set. I know who I am, what's _me,_ what I want. It's _my_ grief now, my loss."

"We've all lost so much, but we could lose a lot more in this."

"If we do, at least it's our choice."

Steve blinked at that. "I guess?"

"Everything else that's happened, all of these deaths... That wasn't their choice. That was their choices taken from them. It wasn't something they would've wanted. That's what makes it hurt worse, because we keep wondering what else we should have done, but there isn't anything." She pulled him into a hug. "We can only change what we can control, Steve. We need to band together, now more than ever."

He held onto her tightly, closing his eyes. Behind them, he could see Bucky reaching out for him, calling his name, falling, crumbling into dust. It was too much for him, and he couldn't help but sob. When he felt hot tears against his neck, he realized Natasha was crying as well.

Everyone cries, everyone dies, not everyone lives. It wasn't fair, and dammit, he would have to _make it fair._

***

Nebula had a scowl on her face and eyed Okoye in distrust. The woman scowled right back at her without any indication that she found Nebula imposing at all. Both sat very still as other Dora Milaje filed into the room, standing at attention with their spears in hand and full armor on. Nebula had worn hers as well, and had resisted the urge to flex and whir her prosthetic limbs. Steve had said she didn't need to prove herself to him, but Okoye's gaze clearly indicated that she had to prove herself to _her._

Natasha was listing the equipment that she and Xoliswe had retrieved from the battlefield; the Black Order tech was going to be taken apart, reverse engineered by Team Technology and reconfigured in Wakandan style. Steve appeared to be chewing on the inside of his cheek as he thought about the list as it grew longer and longer. Nebula felt restless, an urge to hack and slash and _kill_ thrumming through her. These were all warriors here, why were they simply sitting and _talking?_

Almost as if he could sense what she was feeling, Steve nodded at Natasha and Xoliswe. "Thanks. Now, Nebula, you said that you know his training style and bases."

"I am a daughter of Thanos," she said stiffly. "Such is common knowledge among us."

"How many of his so-called children are left?" Okoye demanded.

Her gut twisted as she thought of Gamora, but pushed that aside. "From what you have all said, the Black Order leadership is destroyed. I believe that only leaves me and Thane."

"Thane?"

"His son."

"What planet was he taken from?" Steve asked with a frown. "We haven't seen or heard from him..."

"No, Thane is his natural-born son," Nebula said, voice flat. Her lips compressed into a thin line, clearly expressing her dislike for Thane. "He thought he was better than the rest of us, and he had power of his own that he was able to manipulate. But he has no control over it if he isn't wearing his containment suit. He can raze entire cities when his power explodes out like a bomb, so sometimes he deliberately walked about without his armor. Thane is truly Thanos' son, and feels that he can control all cosmic energy." 

"So where was he in all this?" Natasha demanded. "We saw those others from the Black Order, but not Thane."

"He'd been banished decades ago," Nebula reported flatly. "He'd thought it was amusing to show off his power and terrorize lesser agents in the Order by destroying work camps and training halls."

Okoye stared at her. "He destroyed his allies _for fun?"_

"Ebony Maw created the containment suit, so he created Thane's prison. Unless that was destroyed like the people were, he would still be there. I wouldn't count us lucky enough for him to be destroyed when half the universe was."

"No, I don't think our luck would hold in that sense," Okoye intoned grimly.

"Can he be turned against Thanos?" Steve asked.

"He'd probably want to destroy Thanos, but at this point in isolation for so long, I wouldn't trust that he wouldn't be worse than Thanos."

Everyone exchanged wary glances. "Last ditch effort then," Steve said, shaking his head. "Anyone else that might be turned?"

"We'd have to see who survived the training camps." Nebula swallowed uneasily. "I've avoided most of them. I went through trade posts and the Underground for weapons or news to trace his whereabouts when he stopped showing up at the bases." At Okoye's skeptical look at her, Nebula bristled. "I didn't want to go back there. I can't..." She swallowed again. "I sleep poorly enough as it is."

Something in Okoye's expression softened a fraction, just as Steve's had the day before. "But you know where they are."

"And where the armories are."

Natasha and Steve exchanged a glance. "When we took out some Hydra cells last year, they kept a lot more information in their armories than we expected." She turned back to Nebula. "But I'm guessing you didn't go to any of them when you were on the run, if you went through trade outposts. Why is that?"

"He tracks most items and there are changing pass codes for access. Lock out protocols are lethal."

"Of course they are," Okoye muttered, shaking his head.

"Leader of a death cult," Nebula pointed out.

Okoye tapped on one of her wrist spheres and a map appeared on the wall screen that the Dora Milaje warriors weren't standing against. "This is the map that our Queen had created with help from Thor and Rocket. Can you indicate where things are?"

Nebula nodded stiffly and moved to the map on the wall. Quickly, she tapped out the bases, armories and training camps, and also offered up notes on the posts that she had gone through and Ravager team touch points that she had worked in. Her voice was without emotion or cadence, as best as she could do it, but apparently Natasha still caught her emotions. Nebula was startled to see her at her side, touching her arm the way Tony had on the ship.

"Had he ever discussed what he would do after he did what he wanted?"

"There was only his work," Nebula said, jerking herself away from Natasha. "Only dreaming of the deaths of countless worthless lives."

"But why?" Natasha pressed. "There's got to be an endgame. There's a _reason_ why he does these things."

"He used to say it was to conserve finite resources," Nebula said, lip curling in derision, "but he enjoys the power he holds over others. He enjoys collecting dangerous things, killing the weak and useless. He courts death."

"Literally?" Steve asked with a frown. That made everyone turn and look at him incredulously. "What? We're friends with the God of Thunder. Do you really think that there isn't a God of Death?"

"Thanos doesn't want to die," Nebula said with a scowl. "He wants to control it."

Steve smiled then, and it was disconcerting sight to see. Instead of his usual thoughtful or sincere expressions, it was a devious one, one that Nebula would have seen in the training halls on Thanos' bases. "Then we give him a target he can't wait to control and trap him in it. If his son can be trapped, then he can, too."

She'd never tried to trap him before. "I don't know if that can be done," Nebula said slowly.

"You were raised to fear him," Natasha pointed out.

"And what others fear of him would give him power," Okoye agreed, standing. "So we would need a location that would possibly survive a battle with this madman. And then, depending on what the Tech Team can come up with, we'll be able to craft a battle strategy to trap or kill him." She gave Nebula a smile that achingly reminded her of Gamora's. "Preferably both."

"Then let's get started." Nebula found herself grinning at Okoye. Tony hadn't been wrong, after all. These were definitely her kind of people.


End file.
